backtracks

stuff from the past

[mentifactsbacktracks-blog]

Delaney & Bonnie and Friends - Motel Shot (1971)

I had an interesting dichotomy when it came to my music development and rearing.  My dad rarely listened to anything post 1970.  My mom rarely listened to anything post 1670 (or so it seemed).   I cut my teeth on a blend of blues, the elder statesmen(and women) of country, big band, folk, 60’s psychedelic and Brit pop, Motown, classical, gospel and bluegrass.  It’s no wonder I got a rather eclectic taste that would eventually lead to me sneaking rap, metal, and punk records into the house.

So what am I talking about here?  Connecting with your folks through the language of music.  I was pretty lucky to have a good relationship with my parents.  When all else failed, we always had music to connect us.  To hell with politics, we had albums like Delany and Bonnie’s Motel Shot to talk about.

Released in 1971, it was one of the only post 1970 albums that graced my dad’s collection.  As I later found out, it was actually his dad’s album, and it encompasses a lot of what I encountered growing up.  This jump out your chair, handclappin’, foot-stompin’ fusion of blues, folk, gospel, and country sets my world on fire every time it gets played.  To me, it’s what an album should be: loose, emotive, free-wheeling, heart-on-your-sleeve, passionate, intimate, and conducted with a sense of urgency.

With almost twenty folks partaking in the fun, you feel like you’re part of the experience?  This definitely feels like an album that was recorded with a purpose, and the purpose was to share the joy and love each person on that album had for each other, and it’s pretty clear from the get go.  Everyone involved was in it to create an album that would make the listener feel good.    

After opening with two powerful gospel songs, they create an even deeper, closer sense of community with the slowed down “Rock of Ages” – a song that still gives me chills thinking about my mom’s mom singing it at the care home.  Was it gutsy for a group of rag-tag artists to open an album with three consecutive gospel tunes in 1971?  Absolutely.  Did they act like they cared for even a second?  Nope.

You want songs about how things are rough but are going to get better?  You’ve got it.  You want songs about being endlessly in love?  Done.  You want some tongue-in-cheek blues?  Count on it.  You want a painfully endearing song about love that’s lost?  It’s there.

The last song I’m referring to is “Faded Love”.  The song is an absolute heart-wrenching tune about a man calling out to the lady he’s still thinking about.  It wasn’t until I was older that I found out how deeply significant this song was to my dad’s side of the family.  When things were a bit rocky with his folks, this was their song.  Yes, things got better before my grandfather’s untimely death in 1973, but with a background story like this hanging over the song, it just holds a little deeper meaning for us.

What made me write about Motel Shot?  Not really sure.  It’s definitely one of my three favorite albums.  Maybe because it’s perpetually lost in the archives of modern classics.  Maybe it’s the fact that I live about 9,000 miles from my parents, and I’m a bit homesick.   I think I know what it truly is though.  As I get older, I really appreciate and love my parents on a deeper level.   And I’m pretty lucky to have parents who introduced me to this album.

Bonnie Bramlett said of the album, “If this album can make one person feel half of what I felt on this session, then I am happy. It is to all of you with love."  Well, I hope you’re happy, Bonnie.

[mentifactsbacktracks-blog]

The So So Glos - Tourism/Terrorism [2008]

Music is an auditory Constitution, an ever changing document that bends to reflect the current state of the world.  I could wax poetic about Neutral Milk Hotel, Refused, Joy Division, Hüsker Dü, Pavement, and the dozens of albums and artists that influenced my emotions and tastes.  There will never be another band like any of those mentioned.  So to try and compare what’s currently going on to these icons is a losing battle.  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have those “whatever happened to the good ole days” thoughts, but an album from 2008 always brings me back into perspective.

The So So Glos’ Tourism/Terrorism feels like an album that was written to remind folks that not all hope is lost.  With his tongue planted firmly in cheek, Alex Levine snarls the following to open up “My Block”:

“The press is out Yeah, they think we’re dressed in blue and brown They think we’re sent straight from London Town But we’re not, and it’s twenty-oh-eight…”

To compare one’s band to the punk acts of Britain takes some confidence, and while they obviously pay homage to and respect such acts, they definitely want to let you know that the scene ain’t dead.

From this song, the band goes straight to the root of the problem with the modern music landscape.  “Throw Your Hands Up DJ” imagines holding a radio station hostage, but instead of using violence, they use their lyrics and music.

And of course there’s the bevy of standard issues that any good Brooklyn punk band would come across: parties, dancing, temptations of major labels, getting caught up in the 9-5 grind, etc.  They’re all tackled in a manner that seems like a discussion rather than a lecture though.  The So So Glos just want you to understand where they’re coming from and want you to respect their fight.  They seem primed to continue fighting the good fight. 

I’ll end my diatribe with this:  Most people aren’t okay with being complicit.  If music sounded the same as it did 10, 20, 30, 35, or whatever the hell time period you choose, we’d all get pretty bored after a while.  I think the song “Island Loops” says it best:

“And our story books are all dated and old And you know you can rewrite them, should the pages fall And the ones who don’t believe, well, fuck them all”

If the So So Glos aren’t concerned about the future, and if they’re willing to take on the daunting task of writing their own chapter in the long, fabled story of punk rock, then why should we be concerned about the future of music?  I know I’m not.  Here’s to the future, and here’s to rock ‘n’ roll.